


bubbly

by okayollie



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (george is just a coward), Alternate Universe - High School, Bathing/Washing, Bubble Bath, Crushes, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hair Washing, Happy, High School, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One Shot, Secret Crush, Short One Shot, Teen Crush, Teenagers, dream broke his hand and george has to help him wash his hair, dream is stinky smh, football player dream, he's also really flirty for no reason, theyre the same age because theyre in the same year of high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okayollie/pseuds/okayollie
Summary: Dream's broken hand is preventing him from washing his hair properly, and he's about to make it George's problem.// a short dnf bath one shot
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 427





	bubbly

**Author's Note:**

> the most unrealistic part of this fic isn’t the dnf, it’s the part where they use conditioner

_Dream’s hair is soft._

George curses himself immediately after the thought ( _yes_ , it’s soft, but that’s irrelevant), rubbing the shampoo into Dream’s scalp a little too aggressively, face flushing from the — from the _heat_. His face is flushing from the heat of the bathroom. _From the heat_. _Honestly_ , it’s way too hot in here. The temperature of Dream’s bathwater is so high that George’s surprised he’s not boiling in it — “So that it takes longer to get cold,” Dream had explained, and George supposes he can see the logic in it, but it doesn’t change the fact that this bathroom is way too hot for comfort.

“George?” The soft interjection brings George back to the present, and he looks down at Dream who’s peering up at him with wide eyes.

“Yes?” George responds quietly — maybe _too_ quietly, he’s not sure if Dream even heard him — and Dream lifts his still-soapy head out of George’s hands, shifting in the tub to face him, careful not to get his broken hand wet.

“You okay?” Dream asks, placing his arms on the rim of the tub and resting his head on them. “You’re really red.”

The statement makes George go even redder. “It’s just, uh, hot. In here,” he manages to get out, suppressing the urge to cover his cheeks with his hands.

“Oh. I was worried that you had a fever or something.” Dream shifts back to his original position, facing away from George to lay back down in the bathtub. “It’s probably pretty humid out there, but it feels nice in here, though.”

George rolls his eyes, safe from Dream’s gaze. “Is it?” he says in the most innocent voice he can muster, then yanks on a lock of Dream’s hair to wash the shampoo out of it. He tries not to smirk in satisfaction at Dream’s yelp. “You’re right, it is quite uncomfortable out here. You owe me after this.”

“ _Ouch_ , George, I’m already injured,” Dream nearly whines. “And look, I can’t do this by myself.” He carelessly tosses up his left hand, the one he hurt during football practice the other day. It’s not a bad break, but he has to keep the cast on for half a month and he can’t get it wet, which is why George has to be here washing Dream’s hair for the second time this week. Luckily, Dream can do the rest on his own, and there’s enough bubble bath in the water to obscure the entirety of Dream’s body from the neck down.

“Yeah, yeah,” George dismisses, rinsing the rest of the soap out of Dream’s hair, then placing his hands on his water-slick shoulders. “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s extremely uncomfortable in here.”

Without warning, Dream tugs on George’s right arm, and George has to grab onto Dream’s bare torso with his left to keep from toppling head first into the water. They’re face to face now, noses mere centimeters apart, and Dream’s grin makes George’s stomach flip.

“I told you, George,” he begins, tilting his stupid head. “The temperature’s really nice in the water.”

“You’re getting me wet,” George protests, but doesn’t make any effort to move.

“Oh, don’t play dumb.”

George ignores him and pulls back, taking Dream’s hand off his arm, then squirts a dot of conditioner into his palm to run it through Dream’s hair. 

“You know,” Dream begins, mischievous smile evident in his voice, “once I’m all healed, I can do this for you too —“

“No.” George pulls a little too hard and his fingers get caught on a tangle in Dream’s hair.

“ _Ow_ — okay, chill.”

“I _am_ chill.”

“Look, are you getting worked up because of the humidity or because I got you wet?”

“No.” 

“What?”

“Just — shut up.” 

Dream’s finally quiet after that, and George almost feels bad for being so cold, but he just rinses the final bits of product out of Dream’s hair and stands to grab a towel for him. But as he walks along the side of the tub, he fails to notice the puddle of water on the floor, and in a blur of steam and limbs, he topples right into the tub with a splash and a yelp. 

A suffocating silence falls like a sheet of snow as George blinks the water out of his eyes. Then Dream laughs, light and sunny, relieving George enough to quell the anxiety in his chest, yet irritating him enough to begin hoisting himself out of the bathtub with an annoyed huff.

“Oh come on,” Dream says playfully through laughs, looping an arm around George’s waist and pulling his back to his chest. “I told you it’s nice in here.”

“This is what you wanted to happen, isn’t it?” George grumbles. He takes his hands off the rim of the tub and places them on Dream’s arm but makes no effort to move it.

“I thought that was pretty obvious.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, you’re still here. Nothing’s stopping you from leaving, George.”

It’s true. He could easily push Dream off and leave, so why hasn’t he?

In lieu of a response, George says, “You never stop talking, do you?”

And, as if he were expecting him to say that, Dream responds with, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

It’s bait. 

It’s so _obviously_ bait.

Dream’s _baiting_ him, he knows that he is, he knows it’s obvious and stupid and cliche, but George twists his neck anyway, tilting to crash his lips against Dream’s in a kiss that tastes faintly of soap. Dream’s playful and George’s annoyed, but _not really_ , and when Dream finally pulls away, George’s only thought is _more_. He leans in again, but Dream chuckles almost nervously and tilts away.

“I take it that this means you like me back?” Dream asks. The words barley register in George’s mind as his heart skips several beats and a familiar anxiety takes root in his stomach. _Why did I do that?_

_He’s just a friend, so why did I do that?_

“You wish,” George mumbles unconvincingly — why _did I_ do _that?_ — then untangles himself from Dream and scrambles out of the tub, peeling his sopping wet shirt off and grabbing a towel to dry himself off. “You can dry yourself, right?” George tosses another towel at the foot of the bathtub, hands shaking. He’s seconds away from leaving the bathroom when Dream speaks again.

“Thanks, George,” Dream calls behind him, as if what just happened hadn’t, well, _happened_.

George turns back, confused, but he quickly understands when he notices Dream’s too-mischievous grin.

“Same time tomorrow?” Dream says. George can see the slightly embarrassed flush to his ears, the one he always gets when acting outrageously flirtatious — he knows Dream too well to fall for his bluffs, no matter how good they may be — but any other nervousness George might have detected in him before has been completely overridden with mirth.

_He probably thinks he’s won this one_ , George thinks. A sore frown tugs at his lips. 

“No,” George says finally, more pleased than he should be when Dream’s bravado cracks, expression changing from cocky to confused. “Ask Sapnap to do it.” 

He doesn’t look back as he closes the door to the bathroom, cool air from the adjacent bedroom raising goosebumps on his bare skin and calming his pounding heart. George leans against the door and tries to calm down, clutching the towel to his chest. He feels like he can finally breathe. 

_Stop running away._

The thought makes him lose his breath again.

The next day, Dream informs George — if not a little too smugly — that Sapnap had to visit his grandparents in the next town over. George makes more of a fuss about it than even _he_ feels necessary, but nevertheless, he and Dream end up in the same steamy bathroom again, eventually with even less clothes on and more swollen lips.

When he steps into the bedroom to dry himself off, George finally admits it to himself.

And he’s sure Dream already knows… but maybe tomorrow he’ll have enough courage to say it out loud.

**Author's Note:**

> (sapnap did not have to visit his grandparents)


End file.
